


Drop Everything Now

by Linsky



Series: Captivated by You, Baby [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Finally Getting It Right, M/M, Miscommunication, Pining, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 09:09:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5086222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linsky/pseuds/Linsky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jamie’s question shouldn’t catch Tyler off guard, but it does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drop Everything Now

**Author's Note:**

> This will make more sense if you read [Like a Firework Show](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4815419) first, though I think it's also readable in isolation. Like its predecessor, this contains a large amount of sex on flimsy excuses, now with a bonus dose of boys being stupid. Hope you enjoy. :)
> 
> (Tumblr!)

Jamie’s question shouldn’t catch Tyler off guard, but it does.

He hasn’t seen Jamie since he left last night, since…well, since they had some of the most awesome sex Tyler’s ever had, and that’s saying something. Tyler’s been floating on it all morning, giggling at Marshall and humming while he makes breakfast and it’s a good thing he doesn’t have a roommate, ’cause no one should have to hear the way he sings in the shower. He keeps trying to do the dishes and then stopping and staring off into space, because, God, the feeling of Jamie in his arms. The feeling of _finally._

He’s not sure what the plan is for seeing each other again, but he’s going to make it happen soon. They have a day off, which is amazing, and some of the guys talked about going out tonight, but Tyler doesn’t want to wait that long to see Jamie again. He’s trying to decide when to go up to their apartment, now or five minutes from now, when the doorbell rings.

Marshall skitters off across the apartment toward it, barking loudly, and Tyler runs after him. He pulls him back from the door before he answers, whispering, “Sh, it’s probably not even him, silly boy,” except that when he answers the door, it _is_ Jamie.

Jamie’s standing on the other side of the door, looking super awkward and shy and adorable. Tyler feels the bottom of his stomach drop out and his face stretch into a smile that he literally cannot control.

“Hey,” Jamie says, eyes skittering away because he is _so awkward,_ and, just, how did Tyler ever get this lucky? “So, um, that stuff you showed me last night. Did you want me to use it on girls?”

What Tyler really wants is for Jamie to come inside so Tyler can get him less awkward and more naked. Jamie’s shirt collar is ripped out, and Tyler can see the spot where he bit Jamie’s neck last night, and, was Jamie saying something? “Huh?” he says.

“The, uh, stuff you showed me.” Jamie’s shifting from foot to foot in the hallway, and something about that pings on Tyler’s radar, even while it makes Jamie’s muscles shift interestingly. Sure, Jamie’s adorable when he’s uncomfortable, but he shouldn’t be _this_ uncomfortable. And then Jamie says, “You wanted me to try that on girls, right?”

And, fuck. It’s this conversation.

There’s a long frozen moment in which the apartment tilts a little under Tyler and he tries to remember what to say next. He used to know this conversation, used to be so good at expecting it, but he must have gotten out of practice, because now he can’t breathe properly, and fuck, fuck, what is he supposed to say?

Jamie shoves his hands in his pockets and starts talking fast. “I mean, I figured you did, but—”

“Oh yeah, right.” Tyler hurries to stretch a new smile across his face. It’s hard work, because there are other things his face wants to be doing right now, but he’s had a lot of practice at this, too. “Yeah, of course I did.”

“Okay.” Jamie lets out a breath, runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I thought so.”

Jamie’s relieved. The smile gets harder to hold up, but Tyler manages it. He leans against the door, pose casual. “I mean, whatever you want, right?”

“’Course.” Jamie scuffs at the hallway floor a little. He shrugs his shoulders, wide and strong under his t-shirt, the shoulders where Tyler rested his head last night, and fuck, Tyler needs to get out of here before he can’t do it anymore.

“So…” he says.

Jamie looks up at him. “So, we’re going out with the guys tonight, right?”

“Oh yeah, cool.” It’s an out. Tyler’s ready for it, ready to have a solid door between them. Except he must not actually be ready, because even though he knows better, even though he’s had this conversation so many times and knows where it’s supposed to end, this time he can’t stop, and he bursts out with, just as Jamie’s turning away, “Although—I mean, if you’re not ready…”

“What?” Jamie startles a little. “No. No, I’m good. You don’t have to—I’m fine.”

Right. Of course he is. Tyler shouldn’t have said anything. “Yeah, okay, great, see you tonight,” he says, cheeks straining with the effort of maintaining the smile. And then he closes the door, and the smile drops away entirely, because he thought—he thought Jamie wanted _him._

***

It’s not a big deal, though. They all go out that night to a new bar, something chic with dancing that just opened up across town, and Tyler’s totally fine with this. So Jamie just wanted a one-night stand, something to make him more comfortable picking up. It’s not like Tyler hasn’t been there before.

Jamie’s at the bar, standing really close to this woman with long dark curls, and she’s leaning in towards him. There’s no doubt about it—Tyler knows leaning in, and this is it. She’s tilting her head to bare her neck, and Jamie’s giving her that little bashful smile, the one that’s made Tyler’s knees wobbly since the first time Jamie give it to him eight months ago.

It doesn’t matter, though. Tyler should have known not to expect anything. He learned this lesson years ago: casual sex with teammates is all well and good, but relationships are something guys want with wives and girlfriends. Not with other guys.

Not with Tyler, anyway.

He turns back to the guys, who are listening to Burish tell a story. Everyone starts laughing, so Tyler laughs too, even though he doesn’t know what the story was about.

“Hey, Segs.” Demers hits him in the arm. “Watching the action?”

“Um?” Tyler says with wide eyes.

“Our boy.” Demers tips his head toward the bar with the grin Tyler’s seen dozens of guys use when their teammates are hooking up. Kind of mocking but also proud. The way you’re supposed to respond to a teammate landing a girl. “Pretty good, huh?”

Tyler forces a laugh. “Yeah, must be a blue moon.”

“Telling him you said that,” Demers says, and Tyler laughs louder, because, okay, this is how the conversation is supposed to go. Demers can’t tell anything.

He looks over at Jamie, though, and that’s a mistake, because he gets caught in the way Jamie’s looking down at her, sort of fond. He brushes his hand against her arm, and Tyler can’t—“Hey,” he says to Demers, who’s started to turn back into the group conversation. “Want to go see what we can find out there?”

“Hell, yeah,” Demers says, and that’s good, because Tyler doesn’t trust himself to go out there alone. He might end up looking where he shouldn’t.

***

Twenty minutes later, though, Demers has disappeared with some girl in a sequined miniskirt. Tyler’s talking with a girl with these amazing dreadlocks who keeps laughing at his jokes. She’s pretty hot, and her hair looks like it’d be cool to touch. Maybe he should take her home. Maybe he’ll be able to make out with her without thinking about the way Jamie’s face looks when he’s whispering in that other girl’s ear—

Damn it, he’s staring at Jamie again. Maybe has been for the last few moments. Tyler looks back at the girl he’s talking to, and she’s stirring her drink, looking bored.

“Want to go to the dance floor?” he asks, and she brightens up again.

Kayla—he’s pretty sure that’s her name—is an awesome dancer. She moves on the floor the way some guys move on the ice, the really good ones who can be halfway across the ice with the puck before you even realize they’ve decided to move. Tyler loves playing with people like that, and dancing with this girl is almost as much fun, trying to anticipate and move with her moves.

It also takes a lot of concentration, so he’s surprised when he looks up and sees Jamie and the girl he’s with maybe fifteen feet away from them.

Fuck. Tyler jerks in surprise and sees Jamie’s eyes skitter away, like maybe he was looking at Tyler and caught his reaction. Tyler hopes not, because the last thing he wants is for Jamie to think he’s being weird. Especially when Jamie has his arms around this girl’s waist. Tyler looks back at Kayla and puts some extra energy into his hips, but he keeps seeing it: the way the girl has her head on Jamie’s shoulder. Like they’re slow-dancing to a song Tyler is pretty sure is by Ke$ha, which is ridiculous and totally something Jamie would do. Create a slow quiet space for the person dancing with him where nothing mattered except Jamie wrapped around them.

Kayla shimmies at him, and Tyler shimmies his own shoulders back to match.

“You’re good at this,” she shouts over the music.

Yeah, Tyler is good at this. He got good at dancing in clubs back in Boston, when he was high on being a Bruin. He didn’t really care much back then if people only wanted to dance with him for the night or go home with him and not see him again. And then the couple of times he did want more—well, that’s not usually what people want from Tyler. It took him a few times to get that straight, but he knows now.

This is the part he’s good at, though. Kayla’s light on her feet and has amazing rhythm. Tyler puts on a grin and spins her so he has his hands around her waist from the back. She moves into it easily, and it’s good, except that it turns them a little so he can see Jamie again.

Jamie—he’s got his arms around the girl, and now they’re dancing kind of silly. Neither of them is very good at it, but they’re grinning, looking really happy, and Tyler would look away again, except that they’re looking at each other. That’s what gets him: they aren’t dancing anonymously, or just glancing at each other and then away. They’re smiling into each other’s eyes, like maybe this is a real thing, like Jamie managed to forge a connection with this girl in the half hour they were talking by the bar, and now they’re—

“Um?” Kayla says over her shoulder, and Tyler realizes he’s stopped moving.

“Sorry,” he says, and starts dancing again. He finds the rhythm, moving his hips behind Kayla’s, but he forgot about the part where Kayla being turned away from him meant he’d have nowhere to look but the top of her head. Nothing to distract himself from the way Jamie’s tucking a piece of hair behind the girl’s ear.

Well, he can change that. Tyler grabs Kayla’s hand and starts to turn her around, but halfway through he stops because—because Jamie leans in towards the girl and kisses her.

Tyler makes a sound. He’s pretty sure no one can hear it, because it’s really loud in here, and it’s stupid anyway—what does he care? It’s just—he’s hit with a memory of Jamie smiling at him big and happy on the ice, for some reason, and then a sense memory of Jamie kissing him last night. Jamie’s mouth, the way his lips moved—the way he clung to Tyler really tightly, like it mattered—

“Hey,” Kayla says, and Tyler turns toward her, startled. She’s looking bored again. “I’m just gonna…” She waves a hand towards the bar.

“What?” Tyler says. Then, “Oh,” because she’s gone, weaving her way through the crowd. He liked her, and that sucks, but it’s probably for the best. Dancing was just taking way too much effort. And it’s getting kind of late.

He doesn’t mean to look back at Jamie and the girl as he leaves the dance floor. But he turns, and there they are, kissing slow and heavy. Jamie’s holding the girl against him. His eyes are shut, lashes against his cheek.

Tyler gets his coat and walks out. They have practice in the morning, anyway.

***

Jamie’s on time to practice, because of course he is. He’s the captain. Tyler wants to look away when he walks in, but he doesn’t, because that would be weird.

He does look away when Jamie pulls off his shirt, but he doesn’t miss the wolf whistle from Jordie.

“Good night last night, eh?” Jordie says, smiling broadly. Tyler can’t help but look now—sees Jamie flushed red, sees the spots on his shoulder and neck where he’s even redder.

Except that those weren’t from the girl. Those were from Tyler.

Tyler has to sit down very suddenly before it’s totally obvious to everyone that he’s getting hard. He doesn’t mean to think about it—he knows he should keep that stuff out of the locker room, probably shouldn’t be thinking it anyway—but he’s hit with another vivid memory, this time of biting down on that shoulder. Of Jamie under his body when they were both naked, thrusting against each other and sweating. Of coming with his teeth sunk deep into into Jamie’s muscle…

“What’s her name?” Demers asks, and Jamie mumbles something. Tyler doesn’t catch it, because he’s already grabbing his gear and heading out the door to the ice.

***

The guys go out for lunch after practice, but Tyler begs off. It’s not that he’s depressed or avoiding anyone or anything. It’s just that he just doesn’t feel like it today.

He ends up curled up on the couch watching Netflix in his undershirt and boxers. When the doorbell rings, he gets up to answer it without really thinking about it.

It’s Jamie. His eyes flick down at Tyler’s clothing and his cheeks color. “Um, are you busy?”

Tyler looks away from Jamie’s blush and forces a grin that hopefully makes it look like he was doing something other than watching Netflix. “Oh, you know. Stuff.”

For a second Jamie hesitates, like maybe he’s going to leave. But then, “Can I come in?”

Tyler shrugs. “Sure.”

He’s conscious of Jamie’s eyes on him as he walks in, and he wishes he had more clothes on. The nice thing to do, the normal thing to do, would be to invite Jamie into the living room, sit down on the couch, but then Jamie might stay for a while, and—and Tyler doesn’t think he can do that right now. So he stops a few feet inside the door, in the hallway.

“So, what’s up?” he asks.

Jamie fidgets a little. “You remember that girl from last night.”

“Sure.” Tyler tries not to let anything show on his face.

“Well…” Jamie twists his fingers around one of his thumbs. “I think I did it wrong.”

“Wrong? What?” From where Tyler had been standing, it had looked pretty right. Dorky and goofy and very Jamie, but…well, that’s always looked right to Tyler. And it seemed like the girl thought so, too. “She didn’t go home with you?”

“No, she did.” Jamie’s looking at the ground now. “I don’t mean that part.”

“What part, then?”

“Just…the part after that.” Jamie’s still not looking at him, and Tyler’s trying to figure out what he’s saying. He can’t be talking about…

Jamie finally looks up, and his eyes are nothing like Tyler expected: they’re dark and hot under his lashes. “Do you think you could show me?”

Tyler sucks in a breath. He—he knows what Jamie means now, and it’s a terrible idea, but his whole body’s gone hot. All of it, suddenly burning. He swallows. “You mean, um…”

“Yeah,” Jamie says. “If—you’d be willing.”

Tyler really, really shouldn’t. He already knows what the fallout will be. But Jamie’s eyes have caught on where his dick is filling out under the thin fabric of his boxers, and—and fuck it, if this is what he can have, he’s going to have it.

He takes a step closer to Jamie, gets in his personal space. “So you want me to show you how to fuck someone, huh?”

Jamie’s cheeks go pink. Or maybe they were already. “Yeah,” he says, all throaty and hoarse.

Tyler puts on a wide grin. “Follow me.”

***

Tyler takes Jamie to his bedroom. It’s maybe not smart to do this in his bed if he wants to be okay after it’s over, but he’s not fucking Jamie on the couch.

“So let’s assume she’s come home with you in the first place,” he says when they get to his room. “That must mean she’s pretty into you.”

Jamie’s standing in the middle of the floor, looking awkward. It’s a look that always makes Tyler want to wrap his arms around him and never let go, but that’s not part of the game plan.

“But it doesn’t hurt to make sure,” he says. He goes up to Jamie, runs his hands up the length of Jamie’s arms, gets a pair of wide, startled eyes in return. Then he leans in and kisses him.

Oh, God, Jamie’s mouth. It’s like he remembered it, but his memories couldn’t really capture how it felt. Even when he was lying in bed last night stroking himself and trying to recreate it in his mind. There’s nothing like Jamie’s lips gently yielding to his, the first soft touch of the tip of his tongue against Tyler’s. This little shivery weakness runs all down Tyler’s body, and he lets out a gasp, and—

And this isn’t how it’s supposed to go. He needs to stay in control here. He breaks off the kiss and pulls just an inch or two away. “What do you think, baby?” he asks in a low voice. “Turned on enough for this?”

Jamie’s breathing is ragged. “Tyler—”

“Sh.” Tyler slides his hands around Jamie’s waist. “Okay, now you want to undress her carefully. Girls don’t always like it if you rush.”

Tyler undoes the buttons of Jamie’s shirt one at a time while Jamie’s chest heaves under his fingers and his hands stroke up and down Tyler’s back, like he’s helpless not to touch. They’re ignoring a couple of obvious points here: like how Jamie has obviously slept with a woman before and maybe doesn’t need quite this much instruction. Or how this is supposed to help him have better sex with a woman, anyway. But Tyler’s not going to stop.

Jamie makes this really satisfactory shudder when Tyler skims the shirt off his shoulders. He has an undershirt on underneath.

“Oh yeah,” Tyler says with a smirk. “Sometimes she’ll have a lot of layers on. That can make things…fun.”

He bends his head to put his mouth on one of Jamie’s nipples through his shirt. Jamie makes this little sound, and Tyler sucks, gets it really wet through the fabric. He puts a hand on the other nipple, raking his nail over it, and he can feel the way Jamie is quivering as his nipples harden into little peaks.

“Wouldn’t that, uh,” Jamie says, sounding like he’s about to pass out. “Wouldn’t that be better without the shirt?”

Tyler grins. “You tell me.” He strips the shirt off Jamie and goes back to biting at the nipple, and Jamie groans and threads his fingers through Tyler’s hair to keep his head there.

God, Jamie’s chest. The taste of Jamie’s skin. Jamie’s fingers in his hair. Tyler drops a hand to Jamie’s stomach and runs his hand over the skin there, touch light.

“You want to make sure to touch her all over,” he whispers against the wet nipple. “Wake her whole body up.”

Jamie’s looking down at him with his mouth half-open like he doesn’t have a coherent thought left in his head. Tyler runs his fingers over his belly, first fingertips and then nails, and then moves his hands up to Jamie’s shoulder blades and trails his nails lightly over the skin there. Down his back, skimming his waist, until Jamie’s breathing has gone ragged.

“And then you can get to the good stuff,” Tyler breathes, right in front of Jamie’s mouth.

He drops his hands to Jamie’s fly and undoes the button and the zipper. When his jeans are pushed down, his cock springs up, hard under his boxer briefs with a little wet spot at the tip.

Tyler swallows at the sight. “Yeah, that’s right,” he says, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “Gotta get her really wet for it.”

He closes his hand around Jamie’s dick and thumbs the tip through the cloth. Jamie’s eyes roll back in his head and he starts making this strangled gasping noise.

“See, this is the part a lot of guys skip over,” Tyler says while he strokes, still slowly enough that it will drive Jamie crazy but won’t really get him anywhere. “You have to get the girl really turned on first. Have to make sure she’s begging for it.”

Jamie’s hands are fisted in the back of Tyler’s undershirt. His eyes open dazedly, and he looks shocked, like each stroke of Tyler’s hand is a revelation he might not be able to survive.

“Think you’re there yet?” Tyler whispers in his ear.

Jamie sucks in a breath. _”Tyler,”_ he moans. Tyler feels the heat of that moan all down his body, and he has to buck his hips against Jamie’s. 

Their hard cocks rub against each other. “Fuck,” Tyler breathes, and he shoves both their boxers down so their naked cocks can touch. He loved this so much the first time they did it, has been dreaming about it. He pulls off his undershirt and Jamie touches him lightly, like he’s afraid.

“Yeah, you can touch me, baby,” Tyler says, and Jamie’s arms go tight around him, hands greedy against his skin. Tyler gets his teeth in Jamie’s neck again, finds that spot that’s been driving him crazy with its dark red bruise, bites it again. Jamie holds his head down against it and bucks their hips together.

Tyler’s losing the plot again. His head is swimming with the smell of Jamie’s skin. He has so much of Jamie against him, and he wants to get lost in this. Wants to get lost inside Jamie.

“Gotta,” he says, panting, still moving his hips, “gotta open her up,” and he slides a finger down the crack of Jamie’s ass to find that tight little bud of muscle. Jamie jumps, hisses, and then pushes into the touch. “Gotta get her nice and wet—”

Jamie makes an obscene sound. Tyler drags them both back, going for the nightstand without letting Jamie out of his arms. He grapples the tube of lube out of the drawer and manages to drizzle some on his fingers, and then—

“Fuck, baby, feel how wet you are,” he says as he circles Jamie’s hole with his finger.

Jamie’s breathing so hard in his ear. “Yeah, so wet for you,” he says, almost a whimper, and Tyler’s dick twitches hard. He presses against the ring of muscle.

“Gonna get you even wetter,” he says. “Gonna make it so your hungry hole is just gaping for my dick.”

Jamie’s hole clenches under his finger. Tyler shoves the tip in. Jamie’s tight, hot, and he’s shaking in Tyler’s arms.

Tyler strokes his other hand up Jamie’s side. “You have to help her relax,” he says. His mouth is pressed against the side of Jamie’s jaw. “Sometimes she’ll be tight, and you can help by distracting her, touch her other places that turn her on.”

He swipes a finger over Jamie’s nipple, the one that’s still wet from earlier. Then he trails down over Jamie’s stomach to his dick.

Jamie bucks his hips into Tyler’s hand, eyes falling shut. His hole goes looser around Tyler’s finger, and Tyler presses all the way in, down to the knuckle.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he says. “So into it, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Jamie gasps. He’s working his hips back and forth, into Tyler’s fist and onto his finger. Tyler pulls his finger out, and Jamie makes a little sound.

“Sh,” Tyler says. “Just gonna give you two.”

Two is tighter, but Jamie reacts more: he’s gone a little heavy against Tyler, like maybe his knees are giving out, and he’s trailing his fingertips over Tyler’s back and ass. It’s making Tyler go all shivery again.

“Think you’re ready for three?” Tyler asks into his ear.

Jamie’s ass clenches around his fingers. “Yeah, give it to me,” he whispers shakily.

Tyler lubes up his fingers again and starts to push in, and Jamie opens around him all nice and easy. “Now’s when you want to start looking for the g-spot,” Tyler says, and he goes for the prostate he’s been avoiding and presses hard.

Jamie spasms in his arms. His eyes go wide open in shock. “Fuck,” he says. “What was that?”

“Sometimes guys aren’t good at finding it,” Tyler says, and he presses on it again while Jamie pants and writhes on his fingers. Jamie’s breathing like he’s getting off a double shift and mouthing at Tyler’s neck, and the brush of his lips against Tyler’s ear is going straight to his cock.

“This is when,” Tyler says, gasping for breath, “this is when you have to make sure she’s really ready, because you’re not gonna wanna wait—you’re gonna want your cock inside her—but you have to make sure, have to make sure she really wants it—”

“Yeah, Tyler, _yes,”_ Jamie says, shoving himself brutally back onto Tyler’s fingers and then forward to grind their cocks together. “Yeah, _please.”_

Tyler can’t help it: he seizes Jamie’s mouth again, slides their tongues together hungrily. He presses on Jamie’s prostate and feels his response in the way he kisses back. “Okay,” he says, “get on the bed.”

His fingers are shaking when he rolls the condom on. Jamie is splayed out, hips on a pillow and knees to the sides. Tyler can see his dick curving up toward his belly, and his hole is shiny with slick, clenching and gaping in turns, like it really wants something inside it.

“Fuck,” Tyler whispers.

“Tyler,” Jamie says, voice small and begging and full of want, and Tyler’s supposed to be keeping a distance, but all he can think as he pushes in is that he’s fucking Jamie, Jamie is surrounding him, Jamie is his right now.

Jamie is staring up at him and heaving for breath. Tyler’s working so hard not to move, to give him time to adjust to this. “You want to give her time,” he says, and he can hear his own voice shaking with the effort not to push into the clinging heat around his cock. “You want to let her adjust—”

“Fuck all that,” Jamie growls, pulling Tyler down and planting a kiss on his mouth. _“Tyler._ Just fuck me.”

Tyler moans and pulls his cock out and snaps back in. Just like that, his control is gone, and so is Jamie’s: Jamie is reaching for him in every way he can get, shoving his heels into Tyler’s back to get him to fuck in deeper, harder. Tyler raises Jamie’s hips to give them a better angle, trying to find—

“Oh my god,” Jamie says, tipping his head back. “Oh fuck, Tyler, there—”

Tyler thrusts in hard. He’s setting a fast rhythm, and he can see Jamie’s hand on his cock, matching it, spreading slick precome over the the fat red head. Fucking into Jamie is setting him alight—like his whole body was kindling, and it was just waiting for this to ignite. It’s even better than rubbing off with Jamie the first time, better because he gets to be inside Jamie. Tyler can’t think about anything except the cling of Jamie’s walls around him, the way Jamie’s chest is heaving, the way his face goes pleasure-slack and his eyes close as he says, “Tyler—Tyler, I think I’m going to—”

“Yeah, Jamie, yeah,” Tyler sobs out, and he shoves in faster as Jamie goes rigid and comes. It makes his walls clench around Tyler’s cock, and Tyler can barely handle it—feels like he’s going to fly apart—and when he comes it’s deep inside Jamie, spilling into the condom and falling forward into Jamie’s arms.

It’s a long couple of minutes before he can even think about moving. Before he can even think. Jamie’s so solid underneath him, the big built chest that Tyler couldn’t help staring at for the first few weeks in the locker room, before he got his act together and managed to stop looking. He still thinks about it sometimes, though: jerks off and imagines he’s coming onto this chest. Jamie’s breathing quiets slowly, and Tyler can hear again above the thudding pulse in his ears, and—

And he can’t lie here any longer. It feels too good, and if he lets himself fall into this, it will be so much worse the next time Jamie sidles up to a woman in a bar and wraps his hands around her waist and kisses her.

That image gets him shoving up, dislodging Jamie’s arm where it lies across his shoulders and filling the silence with chatter. “So—so you want to pull out carefully,” he says, seizing the top of the condom and holding it in place as he pulls out. “You don’t want to leave anything behind. And of course you know about tying the condom off.”

Jamie blinks up at him, dazed. “What…?”

Tyler turns around and sits on the edge of the bed to throw the condom into the trash. “It’s important to be considerate,” he says, his voice a little higher than he wants it to be. “Some people might want you to stick around, but—but most people won’t want that, so it’s probably better if you leave before they have to tell you—”

“Hey.” Jamie’s voice comes from really close, right behind him. His hand comes to settle on Tyler’s shoulder. “Tyler.”

Tyler bites down on his lower lip and tries to push back the stupid hot feeling in his eyes. It’s fine. He knew what he was getting into. He just wishes Jamie weren’t here, now. That he would go so that Tyler could curl up on the couch again and not feel so alone.

“Did I do something wrong?” Jamie asks.

Tyler closes his eyes. “No,” he says, and he’s horrified by how small his own voice is.

“Hey. Hey.” Jamie’s arms wrap around him from the back, and Tyler lets himself sink into them. He can’t help it: he wants to keep his distance but he just can’t right now, like maybe watching Jamie’s face while he came broke something open in him. God, he hopes not.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, eyes still closed. “I used to be better at this.”

Jamie huffs a breath. “I thought you were pretty damn good at that.”

“No. I mean.” Tyler waves a hand to indicate them, right now. “At not making it weird.”

There’s silence from behind him. Tyler tenses, starts to pull out of Jamie’s arms. “So, you’re probably good now,” he says, “I think you get the idea…”

“Tyler.” Jamie’s arms tighten a little, just for a second, and Tyler goes still. “I, um,” he says just behind Tyler’s ear. “I didn’t sleep with that girl.”

Tyler replays that, tries to make it make sense. “What?”

“I didn’t. I’m sorry.” Now Jamie does let him go, pulls back a little, and Tyler turns around to look at him. He look really, really uncomfortable. “I know I was supposed to, I just—it wasn’t what I wanted, and I couldn’t…”

Tyler stares at him for a minute. “What did you want?”

Jamie’s not looking at him. He’s staring down at his hands. “I know it’s not what we talked about.”

“Jamie.” Tyler feels like a live wire, about to snap with the force of what he’s hearing. “What did you want?”

Jamie raises his eyes. “This,” he says. Then, “You.”

Tyler barely has any breath left. “Really?”

“I’m sorry.” Jamie looks miserable. “I know it’s—”

“No, Jamie, oh my God, no.” Tyler launches himself into Jamie’s space, gets their faces near each other. “Oh my God, Jamie,” he says, and he’s almost laughing with it. “Do you mean like—not just once?”

“How could anyone want you just once?” Jamie asks, and Tyler kisses him, and kisses him, and kisses him.

When they finally break apart, Tyler presses his face into the side of Jamie’s, even though it makes it harder to catch his breath. “Wow,” Jamie whispers into his ear.

Tyler grins against his cheek. “Wow?”

“Just can’t believe—you want this for real? Like, really?”

Tyler smushes his nose against Jamie’s cheekbone. “For so long, Jame,” he says into his skin. “Since…God. Since the airport.”

It takes a minute for Jamie to get it—they go to a lot of airports—but then his arms tighten around Tyler, and Tyler knows he’s caught on. “Back then?”

“Just—the way you smiled at me.” Tyler pulls back to look at his eyes, his mouth. “I wanted…”

“Anything,” Jamie whispers, “you can have anything,” and Tyler kisses him again and again and tumbles them over to pick up where they left off.


End file.
